Surrender in Silk by Susan Mallery

didn’t have a great answer.
    She was here because she wanted to find balance. She wanted to know if the past was real. Why had Zach been the only man to make her feel those things? She wanted to know if he’d been right when he’d told her there was no going back. There was a way in; there had to be a way out. Zach had taught her everything else; surely he could teach her that.
    But he wouldn’t understand any of those statements, so in the end she settled for another kind of truth. An easy truth. “I wanted to make sure you were going to be all right. I didn’t risk my life in the desert to save your sorry butt just to have you collapse and die up here.”
    He stared at her. “You expect me to believe that?” he asked.
    “I can’t help what you believe. I’m surprised they let you out of the hospital so soon.”
    “They didn’t have a choice.”
    She could imagine that scene. No doubt the doctor hadthrown her hands in the air and told Zach if he wanted to kill himself, she couldn’t stop him.
    “You always had more guts than sense when it came to taking care of yourself,” she said, and walked toward him. As she reached for his duffel bags, his neutral expression turned to a glare.
    “I don’t need your help. I don’t know what you’re doing here, Jamie, but whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it.”
    His words stung. She looked from him to his bags, nodded once, then returned to the porch. If he wanted to do it himself, let him. He took one tentative step, then another. After a minute or so, he was moving at a speed close to a slow walk. It was painful to watch him. As she turned away to go inside, she heard a thunk, followed by a low curse. She spun back.
    He’d slipped on a patch of wet ground. Zach sprawled on his belly in the dirt. She moved toward him. He pushed up into a sitting position.
    “I told you to get the hell out of my life,” he growled. “You were supposed to be a quick study, but you’re having trouble understanding me. I don’t want you here.”
    Dark hair hung nearly to his eyes. Lines of pain bracketed his mouth. Yet he would rather die of exposure than let her help him. All the old feelings of inadequacy returned.
    She glanced at her rented four-wheel-drive vehicle. It would be easy enough to grab her stuff and leave. Her apartment was waiting in San Francisco.
    “I don’t need this,” she muttered, and walked inside.
    She headed for her bedroom, then paused halfway across the living room. No. She’d come here for a purpose. Zach was trying to scare her off because…well, she wasn’t sure why. Seven years ago, he’d been the one to dump her. If anyone had a right to be angry, she did. What was he so furious about?
    Now it was her turn to swear. He needed her. Physically he couldn’t take care of himself. And like it or not, she needed him.
     

    Jamie paced inside for nearly thirty minutes. She glanced out the window, but Zach hadn’t moved. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She went out and walked toward him.
    “Dammit, woman, can’t you understand what I’m saying? I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help.”
    “Uh-huh.” She picked up the duffel bags and carried them inside.
    When she returned for him, he really started in on her. An assortment of curses in an assortment of languages. She ignored them all and reached for his arms. Before she could get hold of him, he switched to Turkish and accused her of being the result of a union between a goatherder and his favorite charge.
    Jamie stared at him for a second, then started to laugh. “A goatherder?” she asked. “Is that as original as you can get?”
    He stared up at her. Something flickered in his dark eyes. A glint of humor and maybe something close to respect. She didn’t analyze it. Instead, she took courage where she could find it and figured she would wing it the rest of the time.
    “I don’t know a lot of Turkish,” he said. “So it was either the goatherder or a snake